Private Years in the Making

[Talia Halcorr]

Many years before Talia became a Senator, she was but a mere young girl born to the slums of Kuat. Her mother was a dancer, her father…was someone she never knew. And any questions about him were brushed aside. But her mother raised her as best as she could, but old habits were always hard to kick. As the old saying went:

Spice flows as easily as water in the slums.

Her mother was taken from her, but Talia had a good head on her shoulders. Even as a kid she knew how to live, how to survive on the streets. But she also knew the importance of having a solid support network around her. This came in the form of other orphaned kids, of which a small to moderate sized group formed.

The Kuati Misfits.

As the name would allude, the group got up to their fair share of mischief. But they also did their equal share of good, mainly helping other children left on the streets. People didn’t quite like the idea of a ‘gang’ forming, but it kept them off the streets and from falling into crime.

Talia however, had her eyes set on a higher goal. As she grew older, she began to notice the state Kuat was in. It hadn’t changed much from when she was born, but she had started digging into the history, doing research. She learned how outside corporations had gradually taken over the Kuat Drive Yards. It led to a higher efficiency, and a greater profit, but it ultimately meant local work was driven down to an all time low.

And Talia would learn years later, just how vulnerable it had made Kuat when the Imperials had come knocking.

But even as a kid, she had an understanding of what had been happening. That a good majority of the older generation were content in keeping their pockets lined with credits. Damn whatever is left for the next generation to pick up in their wake. Talia wasn’t going to have any of that, so she started making plans to form a solid foundation for her generation to build off.

She researched the best people to speak with, how to approach them about the idea of a petition. Fortunately, Talia had a good rapport with the librarians at the local library. They had plenty of books on politics and the like, that went into detail of Kuat’s past. And the HoloNet helped in providing information on galactic politics.

In time a petition was drawn up, signed and proposed to the Galactic Senate. Talia had kept her name off it, preferring others with more influence to head it up. It had been a silent couple weeks since the petition had been sent, and Talia wouldn’t lie she was feeling nervous over a response, if there was going to be one.

She got her answer when the door of her makeshift home suddenly swung open.

“Tali, it worked!” A young Weequay boy appeared in the doorway, a bright grin on his face.

“What worked?” She asked, peering up from the datapad in her hands.

“The petition, the Senate gave a response and they approved it!” That got Talia’s interest, and she immediately sat up on her bed and stared at the Weequay.

“Haze, you better not be pulling my leg here…” But the young boy shook his head vigorously, the smile never falling from his face.

“No leg pulling, a rep from the Galactic Alliance just arrived to make the announcement. They’re going to build a number of boarding schools across Kuat, all to help get children off the street and into education."

In that moment it all finally sunk in, as Talia’s eyes widened and she dropped her datapad. “...Holy crap.”

“Holy crap indeed! We did it!”

“Damn right we did,” she said, her smile matching that of the Weequay’s. Their future had just gotten a whole lot brighter

IVI​

 

[IVI]

Every now and then, so rarely, tiny commotions were made. Like swells of waves in the open sea, they rose up, up, up, and fell quickly, assimilating once more to the vast blue waters. Once in a while, though, the small waves resurfaced, again, and again, and again, and crashed their way to the shore and helped turn the tides.

Invisible eyes watched the layers of Kuat, one of the highest producing planets for The Alliance, years-long before M entered the office of the SIA. These eyes reported the tenacity of youth. The petition had been well boasted, the right people had said the right thing, and it had been an easy yes.

The kind of yes that M was used to getting herself. The kind of yes that didn’t happen traditionally. It was enough to instigate an off-the-books investigation of the source of the petition, harmless in nature, lest it be something dangerous.

It wasn’t something dangerous, nor was it someone dangerous. It was genuine, M found out. A youth — Talia Halcorr — who moved and shaken on her own accord. A relentless wave that had the potential to be a typhoon if it caught the right current.

The announcement of the new schools went on with the typical fanfare that surrounded goodwill proclamations. Many media outlets clustered around the representatives who had taken the petition to the senate, and snapped photo after photo, and recorded soundbite after soundbite.

Within a year, two schools on opposite sides of the major districts opened up. With one more still under construction.

One day, when the Kuati Misfits were still in their first semester, the teacher leaned across Talia’s desk with a suggestion to stay after class. When the bell rang, the tired-looking teacher happily announced — “We’ve received additional funding for expanding our extracurricular activities.” She projected a tiny blue holographic image, like a digital brochure, toward the girl.

“A debate club.” Clearly, the teacher thought this was a brilliant investment. Even through her fatigue, her smile reached her eyes. With glittering eyes, she folded her hands on top of the desk and leaned across it, pointing out a line on the brochure.

“I think you should join it.”

 

[Talia Halcorr]

When the nearest school to her finally opened its doors, Talia was within the first lot of kids that were brought in. As were the other Misfits too, of course. Each and every one of them had backed her on her idea of discreetly pushing a petition. At the time Talia held worries that someone would tell, but there was one thing that tied all the orphaned kids together.

Loyalty.

All of them had been abandoned, left to fend for themselves because Kuat lacked sufficient orphanages to house every single child. So naturally those kids banded together, forming that support network, that brother/sisterhood that was ironclad.

If the adults couldn’t help them, then they’d help one another.

Starting at the newly built school, Talia was like a fish who’d been without water for ages. She dived into every possible subject she could. To a point she had to be pulled aside at one point to clarify she couldn’t be part of every class. It wasn’t physically possible, nor were they expecting any child to be able to manage so much at once.

Talia disagreed, but those were the rules. And either way, it didn’t stop her from being a sponge for knowledge. She wanted to learn everything on a subject, on every subject she studied.

When one of her teachers quietly requested her to stay after class, Talia’s curiosity was piqued. A couple of her fellow Misfits joking whispered ‘someone is in trouble’. To which Talia just rolled her eyes and internally scoffed. There was no trouble, she was a model student after all.

Any ‘trouble’ was done off school grounds, and even then she made sure nothing got back to her.

Talia’s eyes lit up when the teacher presented the hologram, absorbing the information. It detailed an idea for a debate club, one to be run within the school.

“You think so?” She inquired, despite already having her answer. Talia was going to join, but she was curious to know why the teacher had approached her with it.

IVI​